I do
by Lalis
Summary: On the night of Jade and Beck's wedding, Tori receives an email that could change the entire course of the night. JORI.


_**A/N: **__This has absolutely nothing to do with my other Jori fanfic, _Stay._ I was just listening to Lana Del Rey, and _Born to Die _screamed Jori to me. This might have a second chapter, based on _Blue Jeans_, or not. I'm not sure yet. But please review, okay? I love every review I get and send good thoughts in your direction!_

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Dear Tori,

Tonight was, in more ways than one, completely wrong. As I walked down that aisle, I finally realized why people pray. It was all I could do to keep walking, step by torturous step, toward a man I don't love and a future I don't want.

I have no good way to explain to you why I even decided to go through with this. I could blame it on my father, who we all know wouldn't accept a lesbian daughter. I could blame it on society, which is pretty much the same. I could put the blame on so many things, but the truth is… I'm a coward. I wanted the easy way. The safe way. The way that would finally make me "normal" somehow.

When I walked into that chapel, I knew it was a mistake. But by then it was too late, wasn't it? I was in the white dress you helped me pick, wearing the eye shadow you gave me for my birthday, and everyone was already there, watching me. All eyes on me, except for the pair that really mattered.

I hoped that by the end of it, when Beck and I said our respective vows and "I do"s and shared our first married kiss, it would make sense. He's a good guy, a good friend, but no more, Tori. I've known that since the second time he and I broke up, and I know it more than ever now.

Did I ever love him? Yes, I did. We got together two years before you came into our lives, and up until the night we broke up at your house, I was in love with him, big time. But when we got back together at the Full Moon Jam, that kiss was… Good, yeah, but wrong. You know when you're watching a movie, and the audio and video are slightly mismatched, and you don't even notice what it is, but you know something is making you uncomfortable? It was kind of like that, and the feeling hasn't left me.

I was scared. Who wouldn't be?

Don't you think I don't remember you and me. That Friday night when I was walking aimlessly around the streets right after saying yes to his proposal, lost and confused and with so many thoughts swirling in my head, forming a knot I couldn't begin to untie without my entire self coming undone. At some point, I sat down on a park bench and started to cry, and I don't know how much time passed before you came around and honked, remember? I remember that stupid little honk of yours that sounded like the Roadrunner. I'd usually mock you for it, but at that moment the sound was amazingly familiar, and I ran to your car like I was running to my salvation.

You held me. You smelled faintly of strawberry shampoo and that baby soap you love so much, and it felt like home. The two of us in that tiny little car, hugging awkwardly with the gear shift between us, was actually the most comfortable I'd felt in years. Why? Because it was you. And I could have told you just then, couldn't I? After all, you told me. I told you about the proposal, and you couldn't keep it in. You said you loved me. Damn it, you said you loved me!

All I did was hide my face in your shoulder and cry harder. Why didn't I open my damn mouth? Why didn't I run back to the house and call off the engagement? It could have been us up there tonight. Maybe not there, but in a little chapel in Vegas, how about that? I think you'd love it. Plus, if we got married, we could be the West-Vegas. Haha. I bet that got a little chuckle out of you.

I looked over the seats before we exchanged the vows, you know. I searched frantically, like I had when I walked in. Nope. Nobody with the most calming smile in the world and sparkly coffee irises. You weren't there, and I get it. I know it's tough. It was tough for me, too. Why didn't I call it off before? It would have spared a lot of people from heartbreak. Now I'm in a mess, a huge mess, and you're not here.

I'm in a mess, but I'm not blind, you know. I might have been blind before, but not now. Now I know this is wrong. I know I couldn't possibly have said "I do" to Beck. There's only one person I could say it to.

Which is why you're receiving this email, and if I know you well enough – you and your stupid little habit of checking your phone every five seconds – I know you'll be calling me soon. I hope you do. Because, Tori, you weren't there. You weren't facing that altar tonight to watch Beck say his vows to me. You weren't there to see me cry so hard he had to hug me for a good minute and a half to even get me to be able to talk.

But most of all, when the minister asked if I took him as my lawfully wedded husband, you didn't see me say no.

Yes, it was a disaster. Beck's mom started bawling – but then again, I was in pretty much the same state. He wanted to cry, too, but he held his head high and gave me another hug. I gave him back his ring, and after everybody left for the party (which, after all, is paid for. The catering guys make the most delicious food, and you know, everyone was dressed up already anyway), he and I stayed in the chapel and talked. A lot. For like two hours. He cried, I cried, I apologized, we both yelled, it was chaos. It's decided: I'm picking up my things tomorrow before he gets home from work, and then we're free.

Did you hear that, Tori? We're free! We can go wherever we want, as long as our money allows. I'm done hiding, I'm done playing it safe, I'm just done. I hope I can crash at your place for a while until we find a place that's our own. Anywhere. No strings.

Of course, there's also the very real possibility that I'll be too late. Don't think I haven't thought of that. But one way or another, I couldn't stay in a marriage I wasn't ready for – a marriage I would never be ready for or even try to. It's you I love. Not him. You.

I love you.

Damn it, I love you!

It's raining. A lot. Way too much. Beck left. I'm still hiding in the bathroom and typing out this email to you on my phone, and as soon as it's done, I'll grab my purse and head… Well, to your place, if you let me. I really didn't think this all the way through, did I?

This is the last time I'm ditching someone who loves me. You know why? I won't need to anymore. Ever. It's you. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of forever, if you'll take me.

There'll be a blubbering bride knocking on your door in about a half hour.

Try not to make her cry too much more, okay?

All the love in the world,

Jade


End file.
